The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

village too, if they encounter resistance.”

    Lanciar woke abruptly. He opened his eyes to dim stone walls and a fierce stabbing pain pounding in his temple. The ache in his lower back competed with the burning sensation on his wrists and ankles for dominance.
    “Am I alive?” His words came out in a dry whisper. He grimaced at the increase in the knife stabs behind his eyes.
    “You’d probably hurt less if you had drunk a whole barrel of ale,” Jack said. His tone offered no sympathy and certainly no mercy. “From what Maija tells me, that is not usual for you.”
    Lanciar tried to lift his hand to rub his eyes, his temples, his aching hair. The burning sensation on his wrists increased.
    “You are restrained, by magic as well as mundane manacles,” Jack informed him. Still no easing in his tone.
    Lanciar risked lifting his head to look and wished he hadn’t.
    “Where’s Maija?” he asked, knowing she’d soothe his hurts with cool towels, kind words, and ale.
    “Waiting outside, wringing her hands and wailing to her father. Hard to believe that beautiful girl is my maternal aunt.” This last piece of news came out in a confused mutter.
    “Then you are the legendary child of the missing Kestra,” Lanciar repeated the gossip he’d heard while traveling with the clan. Zolltarn’s oldest daughter had been ordered to conceive a child with the most powerful magician in all of Coronnan. The resulting child should have prodigious magical talents to open the dragon magic barrier that had surrounded Coronnan at the time. But Kestra and her escort had disappeared before she could rejoin the clan. All of the Rover clans had searched for her and the child ever since.
    “My father tells me that Kestra was my mother, and therefore Zolltarn is my grandfather,” Jack added no details to satisfy Lanciar’s curiosity.
    “Then we will shortly be family, Jack. I intend to marry Maija and raise my son with the Rovers—honorable rogues that they are.” A sense of satisfaction settled upon Lanciar. He wasn’t certain he loved Maija, not like he had loved Rejiia. But his affection for the sprightly Rover girl would endure a lot longer. He’d work hard to be sure of that.
    He’d even watch his language around Maija. And he’d drink a lot less ale. Maija wouldn’t have to brew so much and would have more time for him . . . and dared he hope? . . . for their children.
    “Your son?” Jack asked.
    “Rejiia rejected him at birth. I won’t allow her to kidnap him away from me again.”
    “I thought Simeon fathered her child and that it died at birth. Not unusual, considering Simeon was her uncle. The close blood tie could damage the child.”
    “Lies. Rejiia lies as naturally as she breathes. She wanted the child to be a secret. When she brought to fruit all her convoluted plans to conquer all of Kardia Hodos through magic, she’d produce the child as heir to the three kingdoms. But she didn’t want the responsibility of raising him. She can’t love anyone but herself.”
    “And possibly her father.”
    “Not much longer if the spell keeping him within the statue isn’t reversed soon. I think Krej is dying. Let me up, Jack. I’m no longer a threat to you.”
    “You’ve lied to me before. You were the coven’s spy in King Simeon’s mines where I was enslaved for three years. You betrayed me to Rejiia and Simeon. You gloated over me while she tortured me.”
    “I have renounced my membership in the coven. And I truly regret my misguided loyalty to Rejiia. She and Simeon coerced me into betraying the only truly honest man I have ever known.” He caught Jack’s gaze with his own, imploring him to understand.
    Jack remained stone-faced and unforgiving.
    “My son needs me, needs the family the Rovers have offered us. You, Jack, are a part of that family whether you want to be or not.”
    Jack blanched a moment. Then he firmed his jaw. “What makes you think you can be a father to the child? From what I hear, you look for too many answers in the bottom of your ale mug and never find them, so you have to refill the mug until you pass out.”
    Lanciar had no answer for that. Even now his mouth watered for the taste of Maija’s ale. He knew he drank too much, had drunk too much ever since he’d discovered the depth of Rejiia’s betrayal of him and the coven. “I need the clan as much as my son does. Their petty thefts and chicanery are minor irritations. I would like to reform them, but doubt anyone